Tempted and Joked
by Phelpsies
Summary: This is after The Dark Knight, and the Joker has broken out again to wreck havoc onto the unsuspecting civilians of Gotham. The media and the officials know, but they've kept it on the DL. Now, he has a sidekick. When will they ever learn?
1. Tempting Offer

"I know who you are…" I said, tightening my lips into a smirk. Anyone in Gotham who didn't know him was ignorant. His features were distinguishing.

"Who am I?" he mocked, licking his lips.

"I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you…"

"Well, then… if you know who I am, who are you? That mask sure doesn't help, beautiful."

I took the string securing my Mardi Gras mask and loosened it.

"Yes, go on," he pleaded. He sounded almost desperate. Rule number one to being a villain, never, ever give up your identity. Not even if it's a fellow villain.

"I don't think so, Joker. I'm not dumb." Then he leaped at me, going for the string. I yelped and reached for the string, but only little too late. The Joker untied my mask and pulled it off. He examined my face, absorbing it. His hand reached up and I smacked it away. "Don't touch me… Give me back my mask."

"What's the magic word?" he taunted, which made me mad.

"Or I'll kill you!" I screeched.

"Tut, tut, don't you know your phrases from your words?"

"I said give me back my mask!" I screamed, slapping him across the face. It was reflex; I slapped my victims who didn't obey me. Right now, the Joker was my victim and I was the killer. But he was probably thinking the same, since he had the upper-hand advantage by having the only thing I could hide behind.

The Joker rubbed his sore, probably red cheek. "That's all right, I know what you are. You're a vixen, that's what you are!"

"Most definitely, but if I'm a vixen, what are you?" I riddled with glee.

"Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say I'm… um… a _joker!_" he answered sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "Obviously… Now, what's your name?"

"I don't have one… legally, at least. I deleted any files that ever had anything about my existence. I have no name, no rights as an American citizen, no birth certificate, nothing. I'm neither here nor there. But, as I'm known in Blüdhaven, I am Temptation… or the Devil's Spawn. I'm okay with either…"

Joker mulled this over for the longest while and then looked me directly in the face and said, "So what's your _real_ name?"

I laughed condescendingly. "I can only tell that to people I trust and Temptation trusts _no one._"

"How unfortunate…" he mumbled. He circled me, examining every inch. "So, you're… _infamous_ in the Blüdhaven, am I correct?"

"Obviously…" I answered sarcastically.

"What for? is the question…"

"Exactly for what you are… Murdering several people in bundles… like wheat, that's what these people are… _wheat..._ if you know what I mean, of course. You're just another grain in my way… in my path…"

"Strong words for prey. Tell me, why… so… serious?" asked Joker, putting a blade to my cheek while I smirked my life away.

I took a deep breath and felt the cool blade rest against my cheek. I could feel it digging into my flesh, but I didn't feel the pain. I felt beads of red-hot blood trickling down my jaw and onto my neck. He hadn't cut the permanent smile into my cheek yet, he was just tracing the outline. I closed my eyes as he started cutting deeper. Just at that moment, I remembered I had my fists untied. I wiggled my fingers as they tingled with glee. The Joker pulled the knife away and took his hand to my jaw and opened my mouth. As he was sticking the blade in my mouth, I pulled back my fist and swung at his nose. He saw it coming and pulled the knife from my mouth and stuck it out to defend myself. I opened my hand and the blade sunk clean through to the other end of my hand.

With a yelp, I took my hand out of the blade. The tears in my eyes stung and I blinked them away. The Joker was cackling and I could barely see him hopping about through my blurred vision. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat was sore from who knows what. But, I managed to say, "Why?"

I cradled my hand as it seeped out blood. I let it drop as I took my good hand – my left one – and rubbed my eyes. I could see more clearly and I could see the Joker watching me, watching my every move. "You're crazy!" I spat him, though my voice was hoarse.

"No, I'm not. I'm not crazy…" he mumbled, tightening his jaw. At this point, I would have been laughing at him if weren't for the excruciating pain shooting through my hand that his insanity caused in the first place.

"See, I brought you here because… well, every good hero needs a sidekick, right?" he started, licking his lips.

I nodded.

"Well, if a _good_ hero gets a sidekick, what about a _good_ villain? Do you see my dilemma? Well, I have thought about this long and hard. Why not take the second best villain that's not myself, of course, and ask them? Together, we could take over Gotham _and _Blüdhaven. See, this is the answer to all my problems…"

I spat at his feet. "No," I mumbled, turning towards the door. Misfortune looked upon me that day. The Joker had hired henchmen in clown masks to block all exits, so I had no choice but to say yes unless I wanted to be shot with a handy-dandy shotgun.

"Are you going fix this?" I moaned, holding up my deformed hand. He slowly shook his head with a malicious grin. That was the first time I ever had someone stand up to me since my rise to infamy. Anger bubbled inside of me and I restrained myself from trying to hit him again.

"Why do you need me?" I asked, pursing and biting my lips.

"You see, the Batman _still _hasn't shown him his other side… he has borderline personality disorder, I swear on it. And I'm a man of my word; I still have to kill people every day… And by a unanimous vote, you were chosen to help me keep my promise. So, you're my sidekick… I am not going back to robbing dealers…"

"On two conditions…" I said, holding up two fingers on my good hand, "I am going to be considered you're equal, not a little helper. And we are going to kill Batman in a month's time if he doesn't give up his identity. None of this frou-frou stuff, we're getting right to the point. This is a time to be blunt, Joker."

"I like the way you think," he said, cackling and giggling like someone in an asylum.

"I'm glad," I said sarcastically. "Now fix my hand."

"You know, you are a persistent one. I'll see what I can do… I suppose. Since both of us have no identity except for an alias that we've built up as criminals and punks, we have no way to get you to a hospital. We're going to have to use a medical kit…" he said, pulling back his overcoat to show a med kit. On the opposite side were guns, bombs, grenades, and all sorts of murderous tools.

"How in the world do you hold that thing up?"

"I've learned…" he grunted, taking out the kit and surfing through the things in it. "How do people know what all this is?"

He pulled out gauze and looked up at me. He gestured with his fingers to come towards him. Cautiously, I stepped forward. I held out my injured hand and he wrapped gauze around it. I cringed as pain shot through my whole arm. When he was done, he slapped down my arm and I yelled in pure agony. "Don't!" I hissed, cradling my arm as fresh tears brimmed in my brown irises.

"D-don't!" he mocked. I scowled at him, trying to contain my anger again. I admit it, I have anger issues. That was probably the reason so many people died at the tips of my fingers.

"Are we going to start planning?" I asked, ready to start plotting his downfall.

"Let's hop to it," he said, hopping towards a table that happened to be in the warehouse I was trapped in by the most insane person in Gotham City.

As we got to work, I flexed my gauzed hand. It stung like a bee, but I refrained from showing any emotion. The Joker pulled out a map of Gotham from his sleeve and rolled it out across the table. He had circled Commissioner Gordon's residence, MCU, GCN studios, and Wayne Enterprises.

"Gordon isn't a suspect of Batman since he's old and elderly and such, but I assume he knows where Batman stands, you see? The Batman hasn't been around in a while since he's being charged with manslaughter for good old Harvey Dent, Gotham's _former_ white knight. And the citizens of Gotham have realized that it's not entirely my fault all those people died, and it's his. They don't know I've escaped yet, so I'm off to kill more people. MCU is working on the case of Batman, so I'm going to just pop right in and get any leads they have. GCN had Reese as a guest because he believes he knows who Batman really is. I'm supposing he told them what he knew, so they're going to be hostages. Mr. Wayne has money, so why not just… get some? I mean, generosity is always welcome, especially from very wealthy persons. That's why we're going there first. We need money for… items of blow-uppy proportions." The Joker licked his lips and I sat silently, my eyes taking in every inch of the map. Sure, I'd been to Gotham once before, but that was a distant memory. I was only a child then. This was different, more important stuff.

"I hate to tell you this, but robbing isn't my thing. I murder, slowly and painfully… that kind of stuff. I've never stolen in my life, I just murder. How am I going to do this?" I griped whilst scanning over the map.

"Don't fret your pretty little face off. We're going to go through the plan as many times as it takes to get it through your head. You _can_ steal. All you need… is a little _push_," he reassured with a cackle. The henchmen at the door beside us shifted nervously. I glanced at them from the corner of my eyes and heard soft whispers amongst each other. I ignored it, still taking in the entire map.

"I've planned it all out for you, since I just _knew_ you would say yes to help me—" I rolled my eyes, "—and this is how it goes: you will not be wearing a mask. I'll have my boys here cut all wires in the place so there's no alarm, no lights, no phone calls, any employees in Wayne's company will be on lockdown. And Wayne himself, of course, will be calming down the people he pays. You'll be murdering anyone in your way, since I know you're good at that already. Your next task is to seduce Wayne and get him away from his people. Don't kill him, though, we'll need him later… My men will kill the employees so he'll go out of business. A few men will be getting any money in the building. Wayne won't notice until it's over. If he asks who you are, tell him that you're… a daughter of… Commissioner Gordon. Hopefully, he won't know who she really is. You'll take this knife—" he took a knife from a pocket inside of his coat and slid it across the table to me, "—and threaten him. If he doesn't give you everything he's worth, stab him right through the heart." He drew an "X" with his finger across where his heart should be, but I wasn't so sure he had a heart. "I'll be looking for Coleman Reese. I'll weasel out of him who Batman is, and if he doesn't…" I already knew what he meant before he dragged his hand across his throat.

"Tell me, do you understand?" he asked slowly, as if I were a child. He bent his neck forward so his greasy, green hair hung in front of his foreboding face—which was caked with white, black, and red makeup.

I nodded my head and pursed my lips. "Threaten Bruce Wayne."

"Good. Now, if he gives you any trouble—any troubles at all—stab him, you'll still have the knife. But, before you do, take the knife, and do this…" The Joker took another knife from his overcoat and traced the scars around his mouth. "We'll want everyone to know that I'm back in business, won't we?"

I agreed as a chill ran down my spine. I was ready to plunge the knife into his chest and hear the ripping of flesh underneath my hands that held the power to whether Bruce Wayne would live or die. I felt godly, to be honest. There was an epitome of control and authority around me that strived for more. I'd thank the Joker later.

The Joker rolled up the map again and tucked it into his coat. "Means of transportation?" I questioned, rubbing my throbbing hand. The gauze wrapped around it was almost soaked with blood already as I glanced down at the wound.

"A soccer mom van is what we'll use. You'll be the soccer mom," he answered, grinning and showing his disgustingly yellow teeth.

"At least _you're_ amused. I'm certainly not," I grumbled. The Joker grinned once more as he slid me keys across the table. I picked them up and shoved them into my coat pocket. "Can I have my mask yet?"

"You're not going to need it," the Joker snapped back at me. I held out my good hand anyways and demanded for it. He heaved a sigh and reluctantly handed my Mardi Gras mask over to me. I tied it around my eyes and he groaned at me.

"I _need_ it; I have to hide somewhere…" I explained, giving a pitiful look at him. My bottom lip tugged out away from my upper one. I could be childish at times… I had to get what I want.

"… Only until we get there…" the Joker said softly, which caught me off guard. I looked up at him to see what was up and his back was turned to me and he was slouched over. This was the first time I actually cared what anyone was feeling in my presence since I turned eighteen. But it's been four years since I actually felt anything for anybody that wasn't myself. It was almost a foreign feeling, feeling for someone else.

I pushed past the guarding men so I could fight back emotions. It was disgusting and it made me want to kill Bruce Wayne even more than I already did. It was building up inside of me and was driving me to a point of insanity. I gripped the cap to the knife as hard as I could and it made me feel a lot better.

When I got outside, the Joker and six henchmen followed behind me. I assumed that the van with chipping paint and tinted windows was ours. I nearly jogged towards the van and shoved the key into the slot. The blade in my pocket was calling my real name and telling me to drive. Drive over the speed limit. Besides, what was a speeding ticket compared to a homicide? I didn't care, I just wanted the dagger to pierce Bruce Wayne's tissue and relieve any emotions I had felt for this clown hopping into the seat next to me.

"How does it feel to know you're going to be on the Most Wanted in Gotham and Blüdhaven for murdering one of the richest people ever?" the Joker asked, smirking and giggling at me.

"Great," I murmured, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. In all actuality, it felt amazing, wonderful, magnificent, even superb to know, but I wasn't going to tell a circus animal that. I'd only known him for an hour at the least and he had stabbed my hand in that short period. I wasn't going to tell this thing what I felt.

When we arrived at Wayne Enterprises, the men in the back seat hopped right out and shut the doors. The Joker looked at me and said quietly, "Murder _anyone_ in your way. Even if it's one of those screw-ups out there…"

I was impressed with the Joker's employer conduct. If that didn't get me awestruck, it might have been the fact that there was a hint if feeling towards me. I wasn't sure if his comment was meant to be taken to literal effects, but it _almost_ touched me. Kill anyone in my way… Was that supposed mean kill anyone that was a threat to me so I could stay safe? Or did it just simply mean he still had to live up to his reputation as a murderer?

I took off my mask and slipped it under my seat. I felt so much more vulnerable like this, but as long as it kept me alive… Before I stepped out, I checked the pouches in my overcoat. The knife was secure, but I slipped it into my shoe, just in case there was a metal detector. I was going to have to portray a good girl; I wasn't going to want to get into any troubles at the door. But trouble followed me wherever I went. After all, I was Temptation.

"What's my name?" I asked as I jerked my head towards the passenger seat while the Joker was getting out. He gave me this odd look and tilted his head to one side.

"What's your name?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

I huffed at him, "What's Gordon's daughter's name, peanuts-for-brains?"

"Oh, her name's McKenzie Gordon…"

That would suffice for now, until someone asked my middle name. Hopefully, misfortune had forgotten I existed and would let me be for the rest of the day. I had my fair share already, seeing as my hand was a pool of blood.

Then we parted ways.

Wayne Enterprises, obviously, was a very large building compared to any other place I had been. I was, without a doubt, going to get lost. After all, I hardly knew my way around Gotham. I had no idea where Bruce Wayne was going to be. He had access to the whole building, and I was very limited. All I could really do was hope for the best and throw myself at it.

"Name, Miss?" a guard at the door asked, suddenly pulling me from my thoughts.

"… McKenzie Gordon," I answered, shoving my foot deeper in my shoe that was hiding the dagger that would soon be murdering their employer.

The guard pulled out a list (of names, I presumed), and scanned over it. His eyes never once stopped and I took that as a bad thing.

"You're not on the list, Miss Gordon," he grunted.

"Well, isn't that a pity," I replied, lifting up my foot. The guard followed my movement with curiosity. I pulled off my shoe and slid the knife into my hand. I was giddy with anticipation, and, to make it all more exciting, the expression on the man's face was sheer horror. I cackled malevolently as I brought it up to his mouth. Little to say, he was my first murder as the Joker's accomplice.

As I walked into the building, I wiped blood from the knife on the inside of my coat. Now that I was passed the door, I hid the knife in my jacket pocket. I slipped on my mask that I wasn't supposed to have, but I had stowed it away in my pockets. Did the Joker honestly expect me to listen?

I was welcomed to the overwhelming smell of coffee and the lingering smell of cleaning products. At least the floor was spotless… When I was walking through the halls, up and down, left to right, the power ended up shutting off. I quickened my pace, knowing that I would have to get this over with soon.

"Excuse me!" I shouted to a passerby, who looked a bit dodgy to me, but was the only person I could find. When they turned around, a disgruntled African American looked me in the eyes. A bush of gray hair sat on top of his head and his dark eyes seemed to look right through me. If I had any feelings for anyone other than myself (but I didn't) I would have been self-conscious. "Do you know where Mr. Wayne is?"

He seemed to be taken aback by this question. "Well… He's… busy…" he said. I rolled my eyes and took the knife from my pocket. He was useless and elderly anyways, this would be a piece of cake. When he saw the knife, he didn't seem all too surprised. He looked over my head and then a felt a sudden pain shoot down my spine from my neck. I spun around, only to be greeted by the one and only, the dark knight himself.

"Well, I wasn't expecting this, but you just made my job a whole lot easier!" I hissed with glee, gripping the knife that I held so tenderly at my fingertips. I had never been confronted by Batman before, but he didn't seem to make that great of an impression on me. From what I had heard through the grapevine, he held a soft spot for pretty girls.

"So, tell me, do you know Bruce Wayne? I need to talk business with him," I asked, tightening my lips and edging closer to Batman. He also took a step closer, gripping something on his belt.

"I've heard of him…" he answered in a rough, gravelly voice that irked me.

"Oh, come on, tell the truth. While you're at it, won't you take off your mask for me?" One more step towards him, resulting in him walking even closer. Batman looked down at the knife in my hand, and then looked at my injured one.

"Who are you?" he growled.

"That's for me to know… and you to find out! Now answer me," I commanded, skipping even closer to the caped crusader.

"I'm someone you'll look forward to knowing. Do you know the Joker?" he asked.

"Yep!" I answered, raising the knife and jumping towards the armored muscleman. He grabbed the wrist to my bad hand and flung me towards the ground. I screamed in anger as he started running away. I leaped up onto my feet and threw the knife at the small of his back. Turns out the suit was made for running over protecting. The blade sunk into his back while I rolled on the ground, laughing and giggling.

A cry of antagonism and pain rose from Batman's throat. I pulled myself up, but Batman just pulled it out of his back and threw it to the ground and bolted away as fast as possible. I groaned and took my knife, examining it. There was fresh blood on the blade and quite a few new scratches on it, probably from his armor.

"You're not going to kill him," a defiant voice came from behind him. I turned around and the man from before was looking at me like I was ignorant.

"And I suppose you've tried?" I ridiculed, containing my anger.

"Who… are you?" he questioned at the same time as I wiped the blood from the razor.

"McKenzie Gordon," I mumbled.

"You, we have to go… now!" I heard the Joker shout from the end of the hall. I twirled around and darted after him, leaving the man gazing after us. The Joker tossed me a couple bags full of money, relieving him of the weight. He was carrying three more, filled to the brim with Bruce Wayne's money. A grin spread across my face. I didn't question why we had to go so early when I had just started to have some fun.

"Batman came," the Joker grumbled irritably as we tossed the moneybags into the van. He clucked his tongue as he slammed the trunk. I hopped into the front, the keys still in the ignition.

"I know, he dropped by to stop me from killing that guy," I hissed as I slammed down on the pedal, getting as far away from Wayne Enterprises as possible. "Where to now?"

"The commissioner's place… I have some unfinished business to do there…" he answered, a grin tugging at his lips. He licked them and then ran a hand through his knotted hair. "We have to look gorgeous since we're going to be kidnapping his daughter."

I stopped myself from laughing. There was no way this cruel clown look good? Did he ever look good in his life?

"I know what you're thinking," he said, giggling, "how can I look good? Well, if you look at me at a certain angle, I look _beautiful_. Just ask McKenzie." And then he broke out into a fit of laughter that reverberated through the almost empty van.


	2. What a Joke

I thought about the map of Gotham, finding my way to the Gordon's residence. I led us right to Commissioner Gordon's doorsteps. "Yup, this is the place," the Joker said, eying it from the steps to the roof. "_You're_ going to get McKenzie. Take off your mask. Pretend to be a salesman. Whatever it takes to get inside and find McKenzie."

I was taken aback. I couldn't do it alone. But I didn't question his judgment. My hand seemed to tell me not to. "How old is she?" I asked, slipping off my mask. I laid it down in between the two of us. I watched the Joker size it up as if it would leap at him.

"Seventeen," he answered.

He just kept giving me shocks. "And won't she put up a fight?" I snapped, glaring at him. Why couldn't he do it?

"That's why I'm having you do it, love. I can't risk all this beauty," he said, smiling as if he were in a beauty pageant. I scoffed.

"How in the hell am I supposed to _kidnap_ a _teenager? _Let alone the commissioner's teenager. I'll be shot dead before I can say 'oh shit'," I rambled, resting my hand on the handle of the door. I was ready to hop out, but I was planning my grand escape. I couldn't do this. He was too crazy for the likes of Temptation.

"I don't know. Figure it out… or I'll have your head." Well, that wasn't a threat to be taken lightly. I decided right then and there that I wasn't going anywhere than in that house for McKenzie. I'd rather die at the hands of a Gordon than this monster.

I got out of the car and look at my reflection in a window. I looked horrible: there was dried blood on my face and probably a scar from the Joker trying to etch a permanent smile in my face. My hair was disheveled, in need of a good brushing. The gauze on my hand was bloody, and so was my back where Batman had done whatever he did. I was an absolute mess…

And then it struck me; I knew how I was going to get McKenzie. I fake limped to the door of Jim Gordon and knocked lightly. I looked over my shoulder at the tinted windows of the van and realized I couldn't see anything or anyone in there. It took about ten seconds for Barbara Gordon to answer the door. Her eyes bulged out of her head when she saw me. In the raspiest voice I could manage I said, "I need help… He's after me!"

There was a few seconds' silence on her end. "Wh-who's after you?" she said. I could detect the obvious fear in her voice. I've been told I could do that to people.

"_He _is. The Joker," I grunted. She pulled me in the house immediately and shut the door. "Is your husband here?"

Mrs. Gordon looked down at me and shook her head. "He's working," she whispered. I nodded in acknowledgement. "Would you like something to drink… or something to eat? You look terrible. There's a guest room you can stay in… I'm sure Jim could offer you protection…"

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head. "I don't need drink or food. Protection would be nice, though."

"What's your name?" Barbara asked slowly. I took a deep, gasping breath before slamming to the cool, wood floor. There was a shout as I rolled onto my side, taking in what was around me. Two children, not a day older than ten, came running in with dolls and toy cars in their small hands. And then came a leggy teenager. The dark shadows under her eyes showed one too many rough nights and her pasty skin showed she hardly got any sun. Her dark hair contrasted with her dark hair that hung around her face in soft curls. She observed me with distaste.

Barbara Gordon bent over me and checked to see if I was still breathing and if I was still conscious. I blinked hard and sat up. "I can't go to a hospital… he'll find me," I mumbled, hoisting myself dramatically against a wall.

"Who?" snapped McKenzie Gordon, crossing her arms.

"The Joker," her mother breathed, pushing the hair from her face. She cupped a hand around her mouth. She then noticed the rest of the audience. She ushered her youngest two children quietly out of the room, away from the grotesque sight. McKenzie was still squinting at me.

"What does he want with you?" McKenzie asked with a pang of anger in her voice. I stood swiftly, surprising her.

"You," I whispered dangerously. I gripped her neck with my hand covering her mouth and held my knife to her throat with my other hand. "So walk out that door as quietly as possible and get in the fan out there that's waiting for us." McKenzie looked stunned by the turn of events and nodded. Her eyes were glazed over with terror. I pushed her towards the door and she turned the knob and flung open the door. As soon as we were out, I noiselessly shut the door behind me. I still kept a firm grip on her throat, but my hand had dropped to grip her shoulder.

I nearly sprinted for the van, pushing McKenzie along. I shoved her in the back of the van with all the money from Wayne Enterprises. I was handed a rope by the Joker. So McKenzie was tied up and gagged, much to her disliking. I hopped back to the front of the van and slammed on the gas.

The Joker turned around and grinned wickedly at McKenzie. "Miss me?" he said and erupted in a spout of horrendous cackles. I cringed at the sound of it. That was one thing I was never going to get used to. McKenzie shook her head fervently, glaring at the Joker. Tears brimmed and clouded her eyes. She moved to rub her eyes, but the ropes held tight.

"Where are we going?" I asked, slipping my mask back on while I steered the van with one hand. The Joker turned back to the front and pondered for a moment. "I thought you had this all planned out. Guess I was wrong, wasn't I?"

"No, you weren't," he retorted. "I had options, though. We either demand ransom on video and send it to GCN, or we stash her and the money somewhere and look for Batman. And there's always a slight chance of—" he paused to lick his lips "—being chased."

"In that case, you're driving," I hissed, driving the van down an alleyway and breaking. "So what are we going to do?"


	3. Bloodcurdling Composition

McKenzie was absolutely writhing in the back. She managed to spit the fabric out of her mouth. Her cheeks had red burn marks from trying to maneuver out of the rope tied around her face. Her curls were jammed against her face and the sides of her mouth were already peeling skin. I felt no pity for her, even if she was here for reasons unknown to me.

"Why?" McKenzie mumbled. It was barely coherent because of the rope.

The Joker couldn't help but cackle again, and this made me shiver. I just hated it so much. It was horrifying, far more than anything I've ever experienced before. And I've experienced plenty of things, mind you. Plenty of terrifying, frightening experiences that would cause any normal person to go insane. But I was no normal person.

"McKenzie, McKenzie, McKenzie… you just don't get it. What happens in the past will always come back to haunt you," the Joker said coolly. "And I never forget. I'm a man of my word, Miss Gordon."

"I've heard," she spat. Or at least that's what I deciphered from her babbling under the lash around her head. I couldn't help but laugh. That was my first impression when he said it too. _I've heard. _Word does get around fast in Gotham and Blüdhaven. Gotham City News was the news for Blüdhaven residents. We were so small that the neighboring town's news was ours. I knew the havoc that ensued after the Joker's homemade video was broadcasted on GCN. He was stealing _my_ limelight. I had been at the height of my power…

"So I say we make the video," I finally said. I had ignored the long speech Joker was giving to McKenzie. They suddenly both looked at me; I had been silent for minutes. "Well, we want Gotham and Blüdhaven to know you're out of Arkham, right? And they should know we're a tag team. We're a bigger threat than ever. And we have one thing the police want. No, the one thing they need. They're going to make sure they get her back. But, one by one, they're all going to die. Do you know how much chaos we could cook up?"

The Joker's face went from quizzical to positively delighted. "GCN has two new broadcasters," he growled. "Now let me drive. I know the perfect place to film…" I hopped out of the car, but he just crawled across the seats into the driver's spot. He was already heading out by the time I had opened the door. I flung myself onto the seat and slammed the door shut.

"I could have died," I said angrily, my eyes blazing. He just shrugged.

"I need a first victim," he said, grinning. I looked back at McKenzie. This didn't go unnoticed, for he just said, "Oh no, I'm not going to kill her. We need her. I might kill her when this is all over with… along with you, but that's quite a ways off, don't you think?"

I furrowed my brows and turned my attention to the side window. We were speeding down a main street in Gotham and cars were veering to get out of the way. Several horns were honking at us, but I didn't care. I was one-hundred percent sure that the Joker didn't care either. McKenzie, on the other hand, was rolling around with the money bags in the back. She was shouting and crying as she was slammed from side-to-side. I couldn't even imagine what she was going through. I couldn't bring myself to care or take on the burden of envisioning it.

We pulled up at a deserted apartment complex about two stories high. The blue paint on the outside was peeling and turning a light shade of grey. There were about two windows per apartment. When we got out—I was tugging McKenzie by the rope tightening her arms to her body and the Joker was lugging camera equipment—we entered the ground floor of the complex. It seemed that three quarters of the floor was dedicated to a lobby with only a coffee table surrounded by one sofa and a lounge chair and one desk. The other quarter was for bathrooms for the designated gender.

I released McKenzie's rope and she drooped to the floor, looking worn and tired. I inwardly mocked her. The Joker was slowly going around the room, rubbing dust from the desk with the finger of his glove. After setting up the camera in front of the desk, he grabbed the sofa and pulled it up behind the desk and gestured for me. I grabbed up McKenzie and heaved her over to the desk. Together, we slammed her onto the counter.

The Joker handed me cue cards to go over, the lines being started with "me" and "you". I was assuming I was the "you". I put my cue cards in order before the Joker pressed the small, red record button on the camera.

"GCN has new reporters," I said coolly to the camera, pursing my lips. I felt around my eyes and made sure my mask was there.

"This is the Joker of Gotham and Temptation of Blüdhaven reporting here at _our _GCN studios with Miss McKenzie Gordon," the Joker continued. I looked at the lump lying on the counter and I cackled.

"If you want to see your precious daughter alive, Commissioner, we're demanding ransom. We don't need your money. We want the face of Batman revealed… the _real _Batman," I added, my lips still pursed and my jaw tightened. This time the Joker was screeching with laughter. I was sure I wasn't the only one who hated that laugh. This video was going to scare so many helpless, useless civilians shitless. It made me feel authoritative. I felt I had more power than I ever did in Blüdhaven. And then my high-pitched, icy giggles joined in with the Joker's. This caused McKenzie to thrash about on the tabletop, her sobs making us like composers. We had created the most bloodcurdling composition known to man.

The Joker shut the camera off and grinned down at McKenzie. "See, what you do in the past really does haunt you in the future," he said before pushing her onto the floor. She let out a cry that caused me to laugh.

"Get her out," the Joker said, taking matches from his pocket. From inside his coat he took a small jar of gasoline. As I was heading out the door, he was sprinkling the gas everywhere. By the time I had McKenzie in the van, the place blew up. The flames danced around the Joker as he exited the building.


	4. Last Lifeline

The Joker hopped into the passenger seat as started speeding off. The van swerved dangerously around the cars; I was passing in a non-passing lane, going at least twenty miles per hour faster than the designated speed limit, and I was blowing past all the stop signs and stop lights. We miraculously weren't hit. I had no idea where I was going, I just wanted to go.

"You're going to have the coppers on us if you keep driving like this," Joker commented lazily, twirling his hair around his index finger. I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the road.

"Not like they won't be after us once we hand _that _in to GCN," I said, gesturing towards the camera at his feet. "It's gonna be like that for a while, I would think. Even if they do get McKenzie… or if we kill her. Speaking of the video, I think that's where I'll go next. Forget your plans, Joker." I saw out of the corner of my eye that he had started to protest. When did we have the time, other than now?

"I'll park behind the studio. I'm going in, since you're on Gotham's most wanted right now and McKenzie would run away. I don't trust her… though the feeling's probably mutual. She's going to bail on us as soon as she gets the chance. And we probably shouldn't talk strategy while she's still around. If she does run off, she'll go spouting our whereabouts."

"I know better," the Joker snarled. "I considered this."

"Oh, really? I figured you were too insane to consider the smaller things," I snapped, glaring at the road. I suddenly turned and sent McKenzie flying in the back. She slammed against the side of the van with a sickening crunch that made me laugh. All of this commotion zoned out the Joker's reply, so I had nothing to get mad over.

We pulled up behind the Gotham City News studio. I held out my bad hand for the video. The Joker slammed it in my hand and snickered when I flinched. I slipped off my mask for the third time that day. I slipped my coat over my bloodstained shirts. I licked my lips and wiped fervently where the Joker tried to make me a girl version of him.

"If I'm not back in five minutes, bust me outta jail… maybe prison," I said, hopping out of the van. Joker cackled. If I did go to prison I knew that he'd be the last person to bust me out. He'd go in just to kill me for being so stupid.

I left the van hopeful, but I went in GCN studios crestfallen: Barbara Gordon was already there, giving them pictures of her daughter and sketches of me from the police. I hid my face with curtains of my hair. There was more than one service desk thankfully. I went to the adjacent counter to the desk helping Barbara. I bit at my lips nervously and pounded my fingers against the desk. Everything seemed so delayed, from the "can I help you?" to the screams that filled my ears. I looked up to see the receptionist with Barbara staring me straight in the face. I slapped the tape on the counter and sprinted for the door. Security guards stopped me, blocking the way to the door. One of the receptionists must have hit the panic button underneath the desk because sirens were in the distance.

"Well, shit," I said, slipping the knife the inside of my jacket. It had already committed one homicide today. It would have no problem committing another.

"No one comes in, no one goes out," said one of the two security guards in a very deep voice. I took my knife in my sleeve and hid the blade behind my hand. I could see Barbara pointing at me and screaming. Now was the time to do it.

I took the grip of the knife and shoved the blade into the guard's side. This caused shrieks to fill the air and I bolted for the door with only one thought in mind: _get out, get out. _I figured the doors were locked, so I busted out the glass with my foot. The guards were sprinting towards me and the police were just arriving outside. I had nothing to lose… so I went through the door, cutting up almost every exposed inch of my body. If I die, the only person who would lose out was the Joker. It could make his job a lot easier. He wouldn't have to kill me when this was all over.

Gun shots echoed in my ears and caused them to ring. Men in navy blue dropped to the ground all around me. The Joker had popped out of the sunroof in the soccer mom black van and emerged with a gun, blasting away anybody who threatened me. Shells fell to the ground and bullets flew all around me. This was definitely an experience I would tell my grandchildren if I even lived that long… or if anyone could muster enough love for a crazy cake like me.

I flung open the door to the van when a jolt of pain rain up my back. It started at my hip and traveled up to my neck. I screamed louder and shriller than anyone in the studio did. Tears blurred my vision, but I could feel a gloved hand throwing me across the van to the opposite seat. My salty tears were now falling down my cheeks.

The van was now filled with my cries of pain and the humming of the engine. We were speeding, I knew that much. Anything else was a blur. I was putting pressure on the wound pouring blood from my hip. This felt so much worse than my hand ever felt. It probably didn't look as bad as my hand, but it felt horrible.

After what felt like hours, I steadied myself. "Where are we going?" I managed to choke. I wiped furiously at my eyes and blinked until I could see again. The police were on our tail, and he was trying to lose them.

"Anywhere but here, thanks to your stunt. And you should probably get that patched up…" he answered, though he never took his eyes from the road. I nodded and took the medical kit he handed me. It was the same one he used on me before. This wouldn't hold up forever. I had to go to a hospital eventually. The whole of New Jersey couldn't possibly heard of us, so I was safe somewhere. The outskirts of Blüdhaven had a nice hospital and little news. I had patched up the bullet wound before speaking up.

"Outside of Blüdhaven… go, there's a hospital. I won't live for long like this," I groaned, leaning back in the chair. I was heaving, trying to get a steady pace. But the more air I tried to get, the shallower it became.

"I kinda can't right now," he answered, though he had a small grin on his face. "I love danger…" Then he started giggling and clapping his hands against the steering wheel. I would have laughed too, but the pain in my side and my gasps for air were just daring me to.

After a while, the quite a few of the police cars fell victim to their own spike strips or just veered off to the side from uncontrollable speed. There were maybe three or four more who just didn't seem to give up. They were getting on my last nerve… "Where's the gun?" I asked out of a sudden impulse. The gun he had used maybe ten minutes before was rolling around in the back with McKenzie. Her eyes were shut tight, maybe trying to forget where she was.

I snatched up the gun and handed it to the Joker. "I can take the wheel." With his foot still on the pedal, the Joker took the gun from my hand and hooted as he stuck his head out of the sunroof once more. I slowly inched over to the driver's seat, pushing my foot towards the gas. I took the wheel and pulled the rest of my body into the seat, shoving Joker's foot off the pedal. I floored it, sending McKenzie into the front. She looked at me with the biggest of eyes before cowering in the corner. I didn't know why she was doing this: I was in no fit state to mess with her, and I didn't have the time on my hands at the moment.

Loud booms from the gun resonated off of the skyscrapers surrounding us, making it sound like a thunderstorm. It might as well be.

I used my most evasive moves; I took sudden turns, drove on patches that weren't meant to be driven on, and even slammed on the gas just to get rid of the last car following us. Even with the Joker firing away, it was no use. When the Joker peeked back in to reload, he looked at me and grumbled, "It's Gordon."

McKenzie's eyes lit up, hopeful. This was her last lifeline.


End file.
